Mistaken Identity
by snooky-9093
Summary: Pausing a TV scene with a twitch and heading for the kitchen for a snack can be dangerous when your sick child sneaks downstairs. A tribute to Bernard Fox.
1. Chapter 1

_I initially began writing this story as a tribute to the late Bernard Fox, but real-life and writer's block got in the way. I later wrote a sequel to Fanfic Court to honor both him and Harry Anderson. But, I was finally able to finish this. Enjoy!_

_Mistaken Identity_

_1164 Morning Glory Circle, Westport, Connecticut._

March 20, 1970

8:45 pm.

* * *

Four year old Tabitha Stephens woke up feeling out of sorts. She had felt out of sorts before; but this time was different. She was hot; her nose was running and her chest felt funny. It hurt when she swallowed and her eyes were watering. Yes, this was a different out of sorts.

The little girl sat up in her bed. "Mommy?" she said quietly as it was hard to talk. "Daddy?"

There was no answer. She had no idea what time it was, and she was not about to tempt fate and wiggle her nose to get the answer. So she did what any child, mortal or witch, would do. She swung her legs over her bed and padded out of her room to look for her parents.

Their bedroom door was open, so Tabitha figured that while it was past her bedtime it was not that late, and her parents were still downstairs. She quietly came to the top of the stairs and slowly, one leg at a time, crept down to the first floor. The television, which was by the end of the stairway, was on, but the living room was empty. Her parents were pretty strict when it came to Tabitha's TV time, but curiosity took over and the little witch stopped to see what her parents watched. She could hear some voices and the sound of a tea kettle whistle coming from the kitchen. Assured that her parents would appear soon and take care of her out of sorts feeling, she walked closer to the screen. It was frozen, something she knew her mother arranged if she had to leave the room and she did not want to miss anything.

She stepped back, gazed at the screen for a moment, and pointed her finger. "Doctor Bombay," Tabitha croaked. And without thinking of the consequences, after all she was only four, she put her finger on her nose and twitched.

"I really think that Schultz knows more than nothing." Samantha smiled as she finished fixing her cup of tea. "Darling, do you want some of those oatmeal raisin cookies I baked?"

"I'll take two." Darrin Stephens handed his wife a plate and then the couple left the kitchen. Both came to a dead stop at the dining room table.

"Tabitha, what's wrong?"

"I dote feel well, Mommy." Tabitha turned. "But I called Doctor Bobbay."

Darrin dropped the plate. Fortunately, the plate was corelle. It wasn't a large drop and it landed safely on the dining room table.

"Oh my stars!" Samantha quickly grabbed Darrin's mug and placed it on the dining room table next to hers.

Hogan, his four top operatives, and the disaster of a colonel who outranked him by several months, were all standing in the living room. Behind them were Kommandant Klink and Sergeant Schultz.

"That…that's not Bombay." Darrin grabbed the edge of a chair in an all too familiar effort to prevent collapse.

"I daresay. Who is this Doctor Bombay?" The British officer went up to Samantha and bowed. "Colonel Crittendon at your service, Madame."

"What the heck is going on here?" Hogan crept up besides Crittendon.

Behind the Allied soldiers, Schultz was quickly looking around at this new environment. He knew monkey business when he saw it, but this? Even Hogan didn't have this kind of power. One second he was in the camp and the next? "Kommandant…where are we?"

"Hooogaann! Is this one of your tricks?" Klink shook his fist. "I swear I will throw all of you in the cooler!"

"We were all in the barracks. How did you two get here?" Kinch asked, shaking his head as if to clear out the cobwebs.

"Commercial break!" Samantha's hand moved so quickly, the air molecules remained inert; and so, thankfully, did the characters.

"Samantha, do something!"

"I will, Darrin." She placed her hand on Tabitha's forehead. "She's very warm." Samantha looked at her daughter and shook her head. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"I dote feel well." Tabitha pouted then sneezed. "My throat hurts, and my nodes is running." She sneezed again, and wiped her nose on her pajama sleeve.

Darrin melted. He took one look at Tabitha and stated, "It looks like a cold. I'll get some tissues."

"Well, we have to be sure, just in case." Samantha frowned.

"Look Mommy, I called the Doctor Bobbay," Tabitha repeated.

"Tabitha, stay here." Samantha and Darrin left Tabitha at the dining room table and then walked by the British colonel.

Darrin stared at the man. "I don't see the resemblance."

"Weeellllll?" Samantha shrugged her shoulders. "Tabitha thought so and popped him in, along with everyone else on the screen. Plus, those two." She pointed at Klink and Schultz. "I don't think they will stay frozen for long. That's odd. Kinch wasn't even in the scene. Why did Hogan say they were in the barracks?"

"Why?" Darrin asked. "Wait one second." Darrin rushed into the kitchen and dumped his tea in the sink. He came back to the living area and poured himself a drink. "Why?"

"Tabitha brought them here. She has control." Samantha sighed. "You'd think after all these years I wouldn't have to explain these things," she muttered to herself. "Tabitha, you need to send these people back into the television. I know you think they look the same, but that's not Doctor Bombay. And I'll call on him as soon as I can. But these nice men don't belong here."

"Okay, Mommy." Tabitha, who for a long time accepted multiple explanations for the unusual goings on in their home, gave her nose a twitch. "Achoo." She tried again. Nothing. And then she began to cry. "I can't. My chest hurts. And Daddy will get mad."

Samantha looked at Darrin and made one motion with her head. Her husband dutifully came over to his daughter and picked her up. "Daddy's not mad. You didn't know. Mommy will take care of it."

Tabitha laid her head on her father's shoulder.

"Calling Dr. Bom…." It was too late. Samantha's freezing spell melted and the entire crew came to life. Again. It was as if the film never stopped.

"I don't know how we got here, Kommandant." Colonel Hogan looked around at his surroundings. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. For the first time, he realized he was not in Kansas anymore. "What the heck?" For some reason, although he wanted to say it, he couldn't say hell, or anything stronger for that matter.

"It's a Gestapo trick," Samantha quickly said. "Hoffstetler?"

"Hochstetter. I knew it." Klink walked over to the beautiful blond woman standing in front of the group. "He's crazy. Always out to get me. He's not here is he?" Frantically, Klink turned around.

"Blimey!" Newkirk was staring at one of the most beautiful homes he had ever seen. The living room was large and very tidy. There was a sofa; he didn't care for the style. A coffee table and two chairs on the other side completed the seating area. A brick wall at the end of the room featured a lovely fireplace and mantel, and there were two large bookcases on each end. And the woman. "Corporal Newkirk at your service, me lady. Jack of all trades," he whispered and winked.

"Newkirk! Get back over here. That's an order," Hogan demanded. Newkirk stepped back a few paces. "She's probably Gestapo," Hogan hissed.

"Nice place, Wot?" Crittendon walked right up to the woman. After all, she appeared to be in charge of this so called trick. He was finding it to be quite a nice one. He shook the cobwebs out of his head. "I'm the highest ranking officer here, Madam. So, if you will kindly tell me what is going on?"

An angry Hogan wedged himself between Crittendon and Klink. "Can it, Crittendon. I'm in charge, Lady, or whoever you are. We all must have been drugged," he whispered to Klink.

"Yes, I would agree. Schultz?"

Schultz was seated at the dining room table, eating some delicious homemade cookies. Wiping his mouth, he scurried over. "This is a very nice setup for the Gestapo."

"Never mind the set-up, Schultz," Hogan said. "I don't believe I've seen Hochstetter recently. We are either having a mass hallucination, or as I said, we were somehow drugged and removed from camp. That seems to be the most obvious answer to this kidnapping." He looked at Samantha and smiled. "What do you think?"  
_  
__I think my blood pressure just increased,_ Samantha thought to herself. The character certainly had a magnetic charm and it was even worse in person.

Meanwhile, the ever cool, calm, and collected Kinch was exploring their comfortable prison. His experienced eyes gazed over the entire room. The sergeant began running his fingers around the walls, the lamps, and the furniture, and quickly discovered that no obvious bugs were present. His attention then focused on the television. He had seen pictures of these appliances before, although he had never seen one in person. This one was much larger but it was still the same shape and was pretty obvious as to its function. He walked over to it. The screen was blank but one of the two knobs had numbers on it. Like any curious man with a scientific mind, he turned the knob.

He paused to watch a pretty blond lady-with two cute kids and a dog-talking to a handsome British man, whom she claimed was a ghost.

"What the heck is that?" Carter asked. "Why is it in English?"

Klink turned and responded to Carter. "Our superior German engineering and scientific achievements, of course. Obviously this is here to demoralize you and to make you realize that the war is lost."

"Balderdash," Crittenden said.

Samantha hurried over. "Put that back to the other channel." She turned the knob; revealing a blank screen. "Don't touch this," she ordered.

Kinch mumbled something and then resumed his exploration of his surroundings. Carter joined him and they came across a small magazine placed on the end table next to the couch. Kinch picked it up. His mouth dropped open. "Colonel Hogan, I need to see you right now."

Hogan walked over.

"Look at the magazine." Kinch handed Hogan the publication. "Look at the date, sir."

Hogan stared at the date and paled. "_TV Guide_? This is some trick," he whispered to Kinch and Carter.

Samantha's attention had turned to her daughter. She hurried over to her husband who was still holding Tabatha in his arms. "Tabitha," she said softly. "Can you please try again?"

The little girl nodded and she tried again, to no avail.

"Darrin, keep an eye on our visitors. I have no choice." Samantha went into the kitchen and spoke in a louder voice. "Calling Doctor Bombay, emergency come right away! Calling Doctor Bombay, emergency come right away!"

Samantha's family doctor appeared in a flash. "Please state the nature of your emergency," he said.

Samantha stepped back. "That's an odd thing to say."

Her family doctor was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt and a comfortable sweater. It looked like she just removed him from a quiet evening at home.

"I was watching a TV program from the future," he stated. "I became quite fond of a doctor in that program, but never mind. I put it on pause. It's saved in my DVR. A most wonderful invention."

"Tabitha is sick and we think it may be a human cold, but we're not sure and we have another problem." Samantha walked over to the door and opened it several inches.

Bombay stepped out and took a look at the tableau in the living room. "Those are the men from _Hogan's Heroes,"_ he stated. "Tabitha twitched them in?" he asked as the two left the kitchen and walked into the living area.

Samantha nodded her head. "She thought that man was you." She pointed at Crittendon.

The two doppelgängers circled each other. Bombay turned around and said. "I'm sorry, but I do not see the resemblance."

"Neither do I," said Crittendon.

Carter who was standing by, said, "Well, I think that is up for interpretation."

"Where did this man come from?" Hogan asked. "And what is he doing here?"

"The kitchen," Samantha replied. "He came from the kitchen."

Everyone began talking at once. Darren put Tabitha down, and stepped back. The little girl sneezed.

"I'm Doctor Bombay and there's a little girl who is sick. Will everyone please shut up!"

All turned towards Tabitha, and the crew from Stalag 13 realized that in all this time they had not noticed that there was a sick child in the room.

"Oh, that is too bad." The crowd parted for Schultz. "I have five children. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Not at the moment." Bombay had a soft spot for Schultz. "Samantha, why don't you and Tabitha come with me into the kitchen." He looked at Darrin, who returned the doctor's gaze with an unfriendly look back. "You." He pointed to Darrin. "Stay with them."

"That's just great. This evening is getting better and better." Darrin stood by the couch and glared at the characters. "Well, at least no one else is here, and Sam and I don't have to come up with a grand advertising plan at the spur of the moment to fool Larry and his latest client."

Carter, who had great hearing despite all the explosions, stepped forward. "You're in advertising? That's really, really neat. Gee. I love the ads on the radio. They're so clever. Sometimes they're better than the show you're listening to. You must be super-talented."

"Well, I do other kinds of advertising," Darrin, now caught up in the compliments, replied. He then caught himself. "No talking or questions." He looked back towards the kitchen, hoping for a miracle cure.

"It's definitely a human cold," Bombay told Samantha. Tabitha was propped up on a counter, looking miserable. Samantha held a small trash can, which was now filled with dirty tissues. "Normally, they let it run its course. And they recommend lots of homemade chicken soup. Called Jewish penicillin." He laughed.

"But what about our visitors?" Samantha waited for Tabitha to drop another tissue in the can. "Here's a clean one, sweetheart."

Tabitha took the tissue and attempted to blow her nose.

"I don't know why she can't send them back. The cold is interfering with her powers, obviously. Perhaps because her nose and sinuses are so stuffed." He tsked. "Run a hot shower, close the door, and let her inhale the steam. I'm sure she'll be able to send them back once her head clears. Call me again if it doesn't work."

"I'll have Darrin see to that, while I handle our TV stars." After Bombay disappeared, Sam picked up Tabitha and put her on the floor. Just as they were about to leave the room, the door opened, revealing LeBeau and a frustrated Darrin following two steps behind him.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I couldn't stop him." Darrin looked around. "He's gone?" he mouthed.

Sam nodded. "Hot shower and have her sit in the steam. We need to get her unclogged. And chicken soup."

LeBeau made a little bow. "I'm a trained professional chef, Madame. I would be happy to make homemade chicken soup for la petite.

"That's kind of you, corporal." Sam turned to Darrin. "Take her upstairs and run the shower. I'll babysit our visitors." She looked at LeBeau. The French corporal was her favorite character. She couldn't explain why. It possibly had something to do with the actor, who didn't seem to age. His spunk, his height, his accent. "Everything you need is in the refrigerator." She shrugged at Darrin and then out of sight of the two of them, she wiggled her nose. LeBeau opened the door to the fridge; in front of him was a large soup chicken, vegetables and herbs.

LeBeau clapped his hands in delight. "Ah, but this will take time, I'm afraid. You can't rush these things."

"I understand. There's a large soup pot under there." She pointed to the cabinet. "And dry spices, etcetera are in the cabinet above the counter; next to the sink.

"Merci."

Leaving LeBeau safely in the kitchen, she hurried into the living room.

Everyone was talking loudly at once.

"Quiet!" Sam let out a whistle. Once there was silence, she said, "Here's the truth. There is no Gestapo trick. You're…"

The crowd gasped as Samantha's mother popped in next to her.

"Mother."

"I heard my granddaughter is ill. Of course, I came to help. Oh." Endora realized there was company. "What have we here?"

"How did she get here?" Hogan rubbed his eyes and then cupped his forehead in exasperation.

"I'm either seeing things, or she just popped in," Kinch, who stood next to Hogan, said.

Sam's mother sidled up next to Hogan and rubbed his shoulder. "And you are Colonel Hogan, I presume? You're more handsome in person."

"I'm…I'm. She's your mother?" he squeaked.

"I see nothing," Schultz added. He felt he had to say that. It was in his blood.

Endora then walked over to Kinch. The sergeant gulped. "Oh, my," she commented as she circled around Hogan's right-hand man.

"Shut up," Klink ordered Schultz. This had to be a trick, he thought. The Gestapo. Hogan couldn't pull this off. He was a POW, after all.

Sam walked over and grabbed Endora by the arm.

"The short one is missing. The Frenchman," Endora stated.

"He's making chicken soup for Tabitha."

"Poor little one. What is wrong?" Endora doted on her granddaughter. She then totally ignored the characters. She would get back to them later.

"Cold."

"Oh, those human viruses. I take it this is Tabitha's doing?" she asked, pointing at the befuddled group of men.

Sam nodded. Sighing, she explained. "Tabitha thought Colonel Crittendon was Doctor Bombay."

Endora nodded and then walked over to a stunned Crittendon. She stared at him for a moment. "I don't see the resemblence. Do you realize, Colonel Crittendon, that you should be a group captain?"

"Mother," Sam hissed. She gave Crittendon a smile and grabbed Endora by the arm, moving the two of them several feet away. "Doctor Bombay thinks she'll be able to pop them back once her head clears."

"Wot?" Crittendon scratched his head. "You know, chaps; I do believe that woman is correct."

"Don't let it get to your head," Hogan grumbled.

"I'll go upstairs," Endora told Samantha. She gave the man a small wave, and because of the household conditions, Endora walked up the stairs instead of popping up.

* * *

Author's notes at the end of Chapter 2.


	2. Chapter 2

_Mistaken Identity_

_chapter 2_

_Meanwhile, across the street:_

Gladys Kravitz was watching one of her favorite shows when the screen turned blank. She got up off the couch and turned the dial to some other channels. They were all working. She turned it back to CBS and there was nothing.

"Abner, Abner!"

Her ever-patient but often fed-up husband was in the kitchen fixing himself a snack, when he heard his wife's call. Sighing, he put down the pie, and walked into the living room.

"Abner. There's something wrong with the TV." Gladys pointed.

"Do the other channels work? " he asked

"Yes."

"Must be an issue with CBS. Lost a signal or something."

"But it's _Hogan's Heroes_. You know that's one of my favorite shows."

"Call Hogan then," he said. He then chuckled.

"Very funny."

"Call CBS."

"I'm not calling the network, Abner. Why do I have to be the one to always make the calls?"

"I'm sure they know. Either they'll fix it or they won't. It's just a show."

"Abner!" Gladys stomped her foot. "Maybe it's our TV." She headed for the door. "I know Mrs. Stephens likes to watch. I'll check with her."

"Agnes, don't bother Mrs. Stephens," he said, although he knew it was useless. He shrugged and went back to the kitchen to enjoy his piece of pie.

Samantha stood in front of the cast and attempted to come up with a viable story to keep them calm and still. She came up with an idea. Tell the truth; partially.

"I have no idea what is going on." She smiled; the members of the cast paying attention to her stopped yammering. The other ones, the ones she had a hard time corralling, kept invading her space. "Carter. Step away from the books. Please. Now."

"Oh, yes, ma'am." The chagrined sergeant turned and stood still.

Sam counted and found two men were missing. "Newkirk. Oh no. Where is he?"

"He and Hogan went that way." Crittendon, never able to resist tattling, pointed to the hallway leading to Darrin's office.

"Oh my stars. Sergeant Kinchloe, make sure no one leaves this room," Samantha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," Kinch replied, offering a salute, as Samantha took off for the hallway.

"Something is not right here." Schultz was seated in a comfortable chair, helping himself to candy he found in a bowl.

"You can say that again. No don't." Klink held out his hand.

Carter sidled up to Kinch. "We've been brought into the future."

"That's impossible."

"Then how do you explain the TV, that magazine with the date, and her hairstyle?" Carter folded his arms across his chest and waited for an answer.

Kinch was about to offer a retort when he heard a knock at the door.

"There's a knock at the door," Crittendon said.

"That's stating the obvious," Kinch replied.

"Well, answer it. That's an order."

"It's not our house." Kinch paused, as the doorbell rang, incessantly.

"Mrs. Stephens! Help," could be heard through the door.

"Well, if you're not going to answer it, I will." Crittendon headed for the door, but was stopped by Kinch's tackle.

"I'm putting you on report!" he blustered.

"Sorry, but something weird is going on here and I think we should stay put," Kinch stated as he helped bring Crittendon to his feet.

Crittendon looked at Klink for help. "Kommandant?"

Klink stood up. "Sergeant, you are not allowed to tackle a superior officer. Even if it is this one."

Crittendon recovered his dignity and headed for the door.

Meanwhile, Samantha entered Darrin's office, where she discovered both Hogan and Newkirk examining her husband's drafting table.

"This is private. Please go back to living room, now."

"Sorry." Newkirk tipped his cap. "I was just following the guv'nor here."

"If this is a Gestapo plot, we need to check under every rock, piece of furniture, every stone, every sofa, and every file cabinet."

"That's enough, Colonel. Shame on you," Samantha said.

"That man really does do advertising," Hogan whispered.

"That man is my husband, and yes, he is in advertising." Samantha then heard commotion from the leaving room. "Now what?"

Blissfully unaware of the goings on in the rest of the house, LeBeau was lovingly starting the chicken soup. He sang to himself as he worked, marveling at the wonders of the kitchen. These people must be rich, he thought. Everything was in English. How stupid. If the Gestapo was involved, they had lots of resources. The Gestapo doesn't play around, he realized. Unless it was true and they had somehow been thrown in to the future. He never believed in science fiction. Although he was fond of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, to him it was just fiction. And magic was just unexplained tricks. He continued humming, regretting that the soup would not be done in quite some time. As he said, you couldn't rush these things.

_HhHhH_

Samantha came into the living room at a run and stopped. Endora had taken over from Darrin and he was at the top of the stairs when Crittendon pulled open the door.

"Oh no. this evening keeps getting better and better," Darrin muttered for the second time when he saw who was at the door.

"I was watching Hogan's Heroes and the channel stopped working. Is your TV working?" Gladys started to say. And stopped. She first saw Crittendon, who resembled that weird doctor who made house calls. But when she looked past him and saw the tall, distinguished looking man who resembled the nice Sergeant Kinchloe from _Hogan's Heroes_, her mouth hung open and words failed to come out. She swiveled her head, saw Hogan standing behind him, and fainted.

"What did we do?" Hogan asked.

"Beats me." Newkirk said. He shrugged and headed over to the couch. "Stop eating all that candy mate." He patted Schultz's stomach. The guard stood up.

"Bring the lady over here," the guard said kindly.

Samantha cupped her head in her hands and let out a groan.

Gladys woke up to find the cast of _Hogan's Heroes_ standing over her.

"Let me help you up, my dear lady." Klink was confused, but he decided to be chivalrous. He assisted Gladys, who gratefully took the sip of water handed to her by an unusually calm Darrin.

"This happens all the time," he hissed to Samantha.

His wife looked at Gladys and said, "We have an explanation."

"No need," said the star struck neighbor. "Mr. Stephens, I'm sure this is one of your advertising projects." She walked over to Hogan and ran her hand over his arm. "I'm Gladys, Mr. Crane. I'm a huge fan."

"Thank you?" Hogan said as he gently pushed her away.

"And you," she walked over to Newkirk. "That's not your real accent is it?"

"Oh, goodness." Samantha grabbed Gladys. "My TV isn't working either; it's a problem on their end; we checked. I'm sure they will rerun the episode. And you're right, of course. Darrin. Care to explain?"

"It's um; yes. It's a huge campaign. After all, they have a captive audience." He chuckled. _Did I just say that?_ "Can't tell you everything. It's secret. But, they…" He pointed to the cast. "Well, they're involved. Please don't spread this around. Proprietary information."

Gladys had no idea what Darrin meant, but she nodded solemnly. "You're rehearsing?"

"Well, you could say that?" Sam looked over at the men; all of whom were staring at these odd people, and looking completely confused. "Right?"

"Um, yes." They all mumbled.

"This is another Gestapo plot?" Klink whispered to Hogan.

"Beats me," Hogan replied. "And who's this Crane?"

"This is me real accent, mum. I swear." Newkirk emphatically protested.

"It's amazing how they stay in character," Gladys confided in Samantha as she was escorted to the door."

"Remember, mum's the word," Samantha reminded her neighbor.

"Of course. Can I get Hogan's autograph?"

"I'll see to it." Samantha let out a breath and fiddled with her hair for a moment before going back inside. "Next thing, Larry and Louise will be driving up in a car. Perish the thought. " But before she crossed the threshold, she glanced down both ends of the street. Seeing no signs of Larry's vehicle, she breathed a sigh of relief.

All the prisoners and the two Germans were arguing. There were several still convinced of a Gestapo plot. This included Schultz and Klink. Carter and Newkirk were on the fence. And Kinch and Hogan didn't know what to think. Everything appeared so real; the technology was suspicious and the TV guide was icing on the cake. Kinch had actually discovered books with copyright dates past the 1950's. They decided a breakout was the only way to get to the truth.

Once Samantha was inside, Hogan motioned for Carter and Newkirk to come over to where he and Kinch were standing. The four, conveniently forgetting about LeBeau in the kitchen, huddled near the back of the living room, next to the sliding glass doors leading out into the backyard. Crittendon followed.

"We have to break out," Hogan whispered.

"A plan. I like it," Crittendon commented.

"You haven't heard it yet," Newkirk hissed.

"And leave those two nincompoops here?" Kinch asked, pointing at Klink and Schultz.

"We'll come back for them," Hogan decided.

The five, huddled in a group, moved in unison-sideways- toward the door.

Endora and Tabitha were still breathing in lots of steam up in the bathroom on the second floor.

"How do you feel my darling?"

"My dose is stuffed," Tabitha replied. "And it's yucky in here."

Endora grabbed a tissue. "Here. Blow."

Tabitha obeyed her grandmother and let out a sniff and a huge blow. This time some gunk came out of her nose.

Endora shuddered. _Eww_. She waved and the shower turned itself off; the steam dissipating.

"Do you think you could try getting those nice men back into the television?"

Tabitha nodded. Endora picked up her granddaughter and headed for the stairway.

"I'll go check on LeBeau; you amuse the rest of them," Samantha told Darrin.

"How?"

"Figure something out."

"Would anyone care for a drink?" Darrin asked the group.

At that, in unison, all the characters paused.

"Don't drink or eat anything." Hogan's voice was firm and loud and everyone stopped.

"But…But…Colonel Hogan; I had some of the candy, and I feel fine."

"I know, Schultz, but if this is a plot, who knows what's in that liquor."

"Really?" Darrin groaned. "Look. It's safe." He poured himself a large glass and gulped it down.

"Well, in that case." Klink and Schultz came over and accepted Darrin's hospitality. Meanwhile, Hogan silently signaled to his men.

"I think we forgot something," Carter whispered as they got closer to the door.

"Do you have any saffron, Madame?" LeBeau asked Samantha, who was relishing the delicious aromas coming out of the pot on the stove.

"Saffron. Yes." Samantha twitched her nose and opened up the cupboard. "You must have just missed it." She handed the packet to the chef.

"Merci."

Endora and Tabitha, who was now holding her grandmama's hand, were at the second step from the top when Endora noticed the attempted getaway. Hogan had his hand on the doorknob. And Darrin was not paying attention to the airmen; instead, he was having a pleasant conversation with both Schultz and Klink. Klink was regaling the American with tales of the first war, exaggerated of course.

"HALT! " She held up her hand and locked every door and window in the house.

Hogan's hand began to slip on the knob. What the heck? He pushed; he pulled; he twisted it both ways and nothing would budge. "This was open a few seconds ago."

Hearing her mother's loud voice; Samantha ran out of the kitchen, through the dining room and into the living room.

"Durwood was not paying attention," said Endora, who was now at the bottom of the stairs. "They were about to make a getaway."

"See, I told you it was a Gestapo plot." Klink took a swig of his drink and smirked. For once he was sure he had one over on Hogan.

"Yes, right. Believe what you want." Darrin glared at his mother-in-law. He walked over to his wife and smiled, grasping her shoulder in affection." Sorry."

Samantha removed her husband's hand and walked over to Tabitha. "How are you feeling sweetheart?"

"I blew my dose and all this stuff came out."

"Can you try and send all these nice men back?" Samantha whispered in her ear.

"Okay, mommy."

Hogan began heading for the family holding them captive. "Wait." He held up his hand. "I have to…"

Tabitha, using her finger, twitched her nose, and in an instant, the men vanished.

The TV screen came back to life, but there was no sign of Stalag 13, or Hogan's men. Instead, the screen was playing a movie. Darrin walked over to the TV and turned it off.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," Samantha stated.

"I'm sorry, Mommy." Tabitha was well aware she caused problems. But she was only four and not feeling well.

Endora hugged her granddaughter. "I'll let Bombay know she twitched them all back,"

"Thanks, Mother."

Endora, without paying any more attention to Darrin, vanished.

"I'll take Tabitha upstairs," Samantha told Darrin. "Can you straighten up down here?"

"Of course." Darrin began fixing up the living room, when there was a knock at the door. Samantha turned. "Go on," he said. "It's probably Gladys."

As suspected, when he answered the door, Gladys was standing on the stoop. "My CBS channel is working." She tried seeing around her neighbor.

"I know. So is ours," Darrin said.

"Are they?"

"No, they left."

"Oh. How disappointing."

"Remember," Darrin told her, "this is a secret."

"Oh, I won't tell anyone. Were you able to get any autographs?" She didn't believe Darrin. She had been looking out her window since she returned to her home, and she knew she wouldn't miss seven actors dressed as their characters leaving the home. Come to think of it; how did they get there? She hadn't noticed any cars, taxis, vans, or busses.

"No. I'm sorry. I'll ask. Now, Tabitha is not feeling well, and I have to check on her." Darrin had to physically push his neighbor out of the way.

"All right. I hope she feels better soon."

Darrin could see the suspicion in her eyes. This was par for the course. Gladys kept looking back at the house as she walked across the street. It was another mystery; one she would add to the long list of weird things going on in that house.

Once that was done, Darrin decided to pour himself another drink. After all, it had been an exhausting and stressful evening. He took the glass and flopped on the couch.

"Can you read me a dory, Mommy?" Tabitha, her nose still a bit stuffed, asked.

"Of course. Let's get you under the covers." Samantha eyed her daughter. Even though the steam cleared Tabitha's head enough to send the TV characters back, the little girl still looked ill. She sighed. Human colds couldn't be cured; just managed, and she dreaded having her daughter sick for up to a week. Hopefully, this bout would strengthen her immune system. Making a mental note to get a much longer visit from Doctor Bombay to discuss Tabitha's human/witch biology, the distracted mother opened up Tabitha's favorite book and began reading.

LeBeau was still in the kitchen, lovingly skimming the froth of his large pot of homemade chicken soup and drinking from a bottle of cooking wine he found in one of the cupboards. He sang to himself in French as he waited for whatever plot Hogan devised to get them all out of this weird situation. Eventually, his intuition told him something was amiss, and he walked out of the kitchen. The lights were off in the living room and dining room and no one was about.

"Colonel Hogan?" He heading towards the stairs and down the hallway. "Newkirk? Kinch? Schultz?"

The office was dark and empty. He took a side trip into the lovely powder room, and then after several moments, he left and walked back into the living area. "Carter?"

"Samantha? Darrin?"

He turned to the stairs and shrugging his shoulders, he headed up to the second floor. There was a night light on in the hall, but the second floor was totally silent. Two doors were closed. He assumed they were the couples' and Tabitha's bedrooms.

"They forgot me." He frowned. "What a mess." He turned around several times.

"Mon colonel forgot me. No more coq au vin for you!"

He was very angry; but then he remembered the soup. LeBeau went downstairs, turned off the stove and waited until the pot cooled. This took quite some time. He drank more wine, and made himself a sandwich. Furious, he tidied up the kitchen. He then walked into the living room, turned on the light and picked up the magazine on the end table.

He picked up the TV Guide and began reading it cover-to-cover. Finally, he made it to Friday night. His eyes grew as wide as saucers when he saw the listings. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. His mind now a blank; for he was in shock, he stood up and mechanically headed for the stairs, walked up and went into the spare bedroom down the hall.

Samantha was up first. She checked on Tabitha and was relieved to find her daughter fast asleep and cooler to the touch. Padding down the stairs, she paused. "I thought Darrin turned the lights out." After retrieving the paper from the front stoop, Samantha went into the kitchen to start some coffee and prepare breakfast. Opening the refrigerator, she stared at the large pot placed on the bottom shelf. She paused for a moment counting in her head. How many were in the living room when Tabitha sent the characters back? Her heart seemed to stop.

"Oh my stars!"

She ran out of the kitchen and frantically searched the living room, the office and the powder room.

There was no sign of the corporal.

She took two steps at a time.

"Sam?" Darrin was standing outside the door of the guest bedroom.

"He's in there?"

"He. Who's he? I mean what do you mean, he?"

"I don't think LeBeau was in the living room when Tabitha sent them back."

"Oh, no. Just, please. No." Darrin slowly opened the door and turned on the light.

LeBeau was sprawled across the bed, the TV guide clutched in his hands. He must have heard the noise, because he woke up. Blinking at the light, he tried to recall where he was and what had happened.

"They escaped without me," LeBeau said as he tried to stand up.

"I'm sorry, but we forgot you were in the kitchen. It happened so fast," Samantha explained.

"Never mind that." LeBeau, still holding the TV guide, walked over to the not-so-happy couple and opened it to a page. "Explain this!"

Samantha glanced at the page and then back at the corporal. "Weeelllll?"

* * *

Corelle is a brand of glassware and dishware. It is made of Vitrelle, a tempered glass product consisting of two types of glass laminated into three layers.[2] It was introduced by Corning Glass Works in 1970, but is now manufactured and sold by Corelle Brands.[3] It's extremely hard to break. If you're ever in New York State, I recommend a trip to Corning for a tour of the glass factory and museum. courtesy of Wikipedia.

Dr. Bombay is obviously referring to the character of the doctor in Star Trek: Voyager. He was a hologram. When activated, medical holograms always repeated that line.

In my experience, men are notorious for not making phone calls. If you are a man and are reading this, I apologize for the insult.

The RAF equivalent of an American colonel is group captain. In the episode, "Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London," Hogan's RAF friend, James Roberts is a Group Captain. I have no idea why the original production team decided to buck facts and make Crittendon a colonel.

The TV show on the other channel is "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir."

For those not too familiar with Bewitched, Samantha frequently uttered "Well" in a long, drawn out manner. A signature line in reaction to whatever chaos was occurring in that week's episode.

Diahann Carroll is on the cover of the TV Guide featuring the local TV listings from March 14-20, 1970.

The Hogan's Heroes episode on March 20th was "Crittendon's Commandos." Season 5, episode 25.


End file.
